necroslacker | outside menudo cabin ; saturday afternoon

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outside menudo cabin ; saturday afternoon

Sam's head hurt. It had been hurting since the Council meeting and no amount of Tylenol or sleep had kicked it. The Council meeting hadn't been bad, it'd just been overwhelming. Between Brannoc's intent gaze, Kell giving him an obviously wide berth, Ariana's inherent distrust of new members, and Pello's inane babbling, Sam felt completely out of his league. At first, he'd been worried about being treated like a sideshow. Come see the man that killed Douglas Montgomery and hey, while you're at it, take a looked at the vampire next to me! Douglas Montgomery had been powerful and strong. He was just a kid. He was a newly discovered necromancer who hadn't killed anyone until three months ago.

The trip to Seattle hadn't been that bad. He'd gotten to see Ramon and Frank. Ramon was recovering nicely and adapting to his new status as a were-bear. Frank hadn't cracked under the pressure of taking care of the house and Ramon so Sam felt comfortable leaving again.

Now, he was sitting on the steps of the cabin he'd been assigned, sunglasses shading his eyes. He probably looked hungover or maybe just exhausted but he felt neither. He just wished his damn headache would go away. There were still bandages on his busted elbows but even that might not be necessary. Mostly, he just wanted to make sure he didn't rip open scabs when he went skateboarding.

Skateboarding was gonna have to wait today. Sam was contenting himself with sitting out in the sun, enjoying the mild day with a bottle of water. Brooke and Ashley hadn't popped up for a few days and Sam either suspected they were pissed because he hadn't done any dead raising lately or they were busy.

Maybe he'd take a trip to the mainland tonight and do some necromancing. He had no one that he needed to raise but he figured he could find a name, raise him up briefly before letting him rest again. It was what necromancers did, right?

Right.

[He's outside so the post is open]

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"Better you than me," Sam said, managing a brief smile. He'd had to ride a horse in class and he never wanted to do that again. "I think horses hate me and my head's weird enough without a giant hat drawing attention to it. I bet you could pull it off, though."

Toby had done well enough with the horseback riding, but it wasn't exactly something he felt all that interested in doing again. "Nah," Toby agreed. "You'd need a glittery pirate hat. To go with your glittery eyepatch." Yes, he was well aware that Sam had tossed the thing. But he wasn't going to resist a chance to tease him about it again.

"Yeah, that's never ever gonna happen," Sam replied, shaking his head. "I'm not a pirate or a cowboy or a pirate cowboy or a monk or whatever else you might be thinking. I barely did costumes on Halloween. Not gonna do them now."

"Oh sure," Toby sighed melodramatically. "Ruin all my fun. And here I was gonna go spread a rumour that you were the lost pirate princess of, uh... Spain," he decided, picking a country at random.

Edited 2011-06-12 01:31 (UTC)

"Spain?" Yeah, Sam couldn't help sounding dubious about that. "You really think anyone's gonna believe I'm a Spaniard? I think you'll have to pick a better country. Maybe France? Or New Zealand. I bet I could fake an accent."

"Maybe New Zealand would be a better fit," Toby agreed. "Your pirate hat could have a sheep on it." Because the fact that they had a lot of sheep there was... pretty much all he knew about New Zealand.

"You are pretty obsessed with me being a pirate," Sam remarked, laughing. This conversation was pretty ridiculous but Sam was forgetting he had a headache and that was a good thing. "You wanna be my first mate or something like that?"

"Darn, you've caught on to my plan," Toby said in mock-disappointment. "All we'd need is a ship and we could sail the seven seas."

"You don't think you'd get bored?" Sam wondered, shifting over on the steps some and gesturing to Toby that he could have a seat, if he wanted. "You'd only have me for company and after you figure out the necromancing stuff, I'm pretty boring."

Toby flopped down on the steps and looked thoughtful. "Well, we could have a crew," he pointed out. "Maybe our roommates could come too." Although that might just be inviting trouble, given the weird shit that seemed to happen in South Park regularly.

Yeah, that's where Sam's mind was going too. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully before shrugging a shoulder. "The last time we all did something together, I ended up with an eyepatch and selective amnesia and you ended up with a fake tattoo. I think we'd sink our ship."

"Yeah," Toby made a face. "You may have a point there."

"Besides," Sam said, rubbing his brow and glancing up at the sun, "I think I had enough of the water back in Japan. I'm pretty sure some of my clothes are still soaked."

He frowned when he realized how that could be read. "From the rain and not from any other unsavory idea you might get."

"Me?" Toby affected a shocked look. "Unsavoury? The thought never occured."

"You're a guy," Sam pointed out just in case Toby didn't realize that. "A female friend of mine once said that all guys have unsavory traits. Some guys keep them hidden and wait for someone to find them like the world's longest and most boring game of hide and go seek and some guys flaunt them like a freaking trophy. I'm guessing you're the first kind."

So was he. Brooke was a wise girl and Sam kind of hated that a lot of people looked past that and would never get to see that now that she was dead.

"Your friend's right," Toby had to admit, suppressing a bit of a shudder. 'Unsavoury traits' in his foster father had been what had prompted him to burn down his garage at his third placement. And really, the fact that he knew stuff he shouldn't was kind of unsavoury in and of itself, although it wasn't like he could really help that, he liked to tell himself. "Although girls aren't all innocent either," he had to add.

"Yeah, I know, believe me," Sam said, rubbing the back of his neck. For some reason, Toby's comment made him think of Brid which made him think of --

Nothing important. Sam shook that off and laughed. "You know any unsavory girls?"

Toby was curious in the way he always was when someone's thoughts abruptly changed track, but he wasn't gonna press the issue.

"I had a foster sister once who got shipped off to Bluewater?" he offered. "Juvie," he clarified after a moment.

"Oh yeah?" Sam asked, thankful for distraction Toby's statement had given him. He didn't need to think of Brid especially after sitting across from her father a few days ago. "What'd she do? Cherry bomb in a toilet?"

"Stole her school principal's car," Toby informed him. "...And then took me out of school for the afternoon to go on a joyride."

"That...sounds like fun, at least?" Sam asked, only making it a question because of Toby's hesitation. "Did you wear your seat belt?"

"It was pretty cool," Toby had to admit. "Of course, I was nine, so I was pretty okay with anything that got me out of school. And of course I wore my seatbelt. Safety first!"

"She ended up in juvenile hall and you ended up...?" Sam asked, curious to know if Toby ended up in trouble or just watching the drama unfold from the sidelines.

"With a lecture from social services and sent back into the system," Toby said. "They figured I had no idea she wasn't supposed to have a car."

"Bummer," Sam said, shaking his head. "You ever see her again? The foster sister, I mean. Not social services."

"Yeah, I saw a lot of social services," Toby rolled his eyes. "But Katie? No."

"Maybe she made boosting cars and going on joyrides a career," Sam joked, half smiling. "At least you've got a good memory for her, right? Could be worse."

"True," Toby had to admit. Not all his foster families had been great or even all that nice, but Sam didn't need the details on that. "Or maybe now she's a cop telling other kids not to steal cars." Yeah, he didn't really believe that.

"That'd be pretty ironic," Sam replied. The one cop he knew had been a pretty decent guy all things considered. He couldn't really think bad about them. "You ever thought about looking her up?"

"Honestly? Not till now. But I am sort of curious now," Toby admitted.

"Nothing to lose, right?" Sam pointed out, shrugging. "It's not like you have to tell her where you are and I doubt she tries to trace your phone call if she's not expecting you to look her up."

And the mention of phone calls just made Toby facepalm.

"Oh, man," he groaned. "I need to call Ray and let him know I'm still, y'know, alive."

"Who's Ray?" Sam asked before shaking his head. "Sorry, wow, that was nosy. It just seemed like the next logical question after a statement like that."

"No worries, man," Toby shrugged. "He's a psychiatrist who's been helping me with the whole... telepathy thing," he made a vague gesture near his head, "since I was little." He blinked and shook his head. "I promise I'm not actually crazy or anything though."

"I can raise the dead," Sam reminded him with a little shrug. "Why would I think you're crazy?"

Toby couldn't help a little bit of a chuckle at that. "Very good point. Freaky powers we may have, but at least we're not crazy," he declared, pretending to hold up a glass in a toast of sorts.

Sam chuckled and pretended to return Toby's toast. "Psychiatrist or not, it's good you've got someone helping you out. But yeah, you should probably give him a call. I should actually do the same thing except replace Ray with my mom."

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outside menudo cabin ; saturday afternoon

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